Gone are the days when one could call on “Ifty Kanifty” (the god of double back somersaults) to get yourself out of bother. Have just been knobbled by a local council for stopping in a red zone. Did I stall in a traffic jam? Was I looking at my map at 4am when the road was empty? (everyone knows – it won’t make a blind bit of difference) Pop the details in “the trouble pocket” , make a note in the diary to look in there when I can afford it; and get on with the positive stuff. Legally right; morally shite. Too many of us probably accept crap like this to avoid feeding the dark wolf. Number plate recognition trumps Ifty Kanifty, every time … What a pity